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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144792">it's a sacrifice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/davesstrand/pseuds/davesstrand'>davesstrand</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Depeche Mode</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, i deliberately put tautologies in the text to make it seem powerful and more sensual, i like to involve religion everywhere, so be gentle with me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:40:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25144792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/davesstrand/pseuds/davesstrand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>But the angels are far from him. God won't look at him. There is nothing sacred about Martin now — his soul belongs to Lucifer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave Gahan/Martin Gore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it's a sacrifice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martin felt the earth slowly slipping away from under his feet-he could not define what he felt, what he breathed, what he lived, and what fueled him.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him.</em> Their skin is touching. They stand forehead to forehead, sweat streaming from their faces. The blood flows, the blood boils in them-they live only now. Their lives last only one unbearable moment.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him</em>. And Martin can't even let an eyelash flutter — in this game, he's just a wingman. He's the one in chains now. It's his body that will be maimed, it's he who will wail serenely, it's he who will pray for more, falling on his knees and bowing his head.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him</em>. But he doesn't even touch him. Martin craves contact, immediate contact; the tension between them builds. His heart doesn't stop beating.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him</em>. And Martin needs to follow certain rules of the game. The guarantee of victory in it is reduced to zeros.</p><p>
  <em>You can't break the silence. You can't touch. You can't kiss. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can't breathe, either.</em>
</p><p>Martin would have refused oxygen if it had been Dave's will. But <em>Dave is so close to him</em>, and he just has to grab the oxidized, poison-soaked hot air.</p><p>Dave squirms, teases him, looks straight into his eyes — there's no light in them. They have a ruthless, inhuman lust and longing hunger. Martin suppresses a groan.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him</em>, he doesn't pull away. Dave is so gentle, Dave is so careful, that Martin is ready to say goodbye to what he once called his pride.</p><p>This is so absurd.</p><p>It's so absurd to stand there, not even being allowed to move, and waiting for a trick. To expect pain. To expect pleasure.</p><p>His soul is already poisoned. It won't be the same again. He gave in to sin-now wherever he'd set his foot, there'll be no escape.</p><p>Dave kisses his hands. Dave kisses his neck. Dave is so careful. Dave looks into his eyes with such awe, but his own are still without a break in them. Martin doesn't care.</p><p><em>Dave is so close to him</em>. But the angels are far from him. God won't look at him.</p><p>There is nothing sacred about Martin now — his soul belongs to <em>Lucifer</em>.</p><p>And Lucifer is so gentle, so merciful, and Martin is ready to burn even in hell — this is a sacrifice.</p><p>Dave is right next to him, he's <em>so</em> close.</p><p>Dave is humming something in his ear. Something Martin once wrote. Once upon a time, when there was still hope. Once, when the angels still cherished him. But he snapped their wings. He fed Lucifer with their blood. He lifted up his own soul.</p><p>But it's easier this way. <em>Dave is close, Dave is so close.</em> So close that Martin is on fire — but it's a sacrifice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>why i'm that sensual btw</p></blockquote></div></div>
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